


November in New Jersey

by Lacy_Star



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Multi, Post-Squip, Soulmate AU, all the chapter's stories are happening at the same time by the way, but its not like explicit dw, but like it's a ton of personal au's? I'm trying to be clever shhh, what can I say Rich's dad is an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacy_Star/pseuds/Lacy_Star
Summary: Jake got to his feet too. There was no way he was going to lose this boy again. His chest hammered. Memories of fire and police sirens and a note on the kitchen table explaining disappearance flashed through him, and in utter panic he blurted out, “Don’t leave me again!”The words caught Rich’s attention. He turned back to Jake. Their eyes locked.And that was all it took, really.As if they were boneless, Rich’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a yelp.Funny how such a simple action, such simple words could start it all.---On a November night, the students of Middleborough re-collect themselves and begin to fix their wounded relationships. Events that can only be described as miraculous follow, and feelings are revealed.





	1. Falling in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--EDITED 3/25/19--

The days leading up to Jake’s legs fully recovering were a blur. He honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you about them if he tried.

He could, however, remember the feelings.

Cold. Hurt. Dark. Bitter. Frustrated. Lonely. Lonely. Lonely.

All he could focus on was his legs. Once his legs were healed it would all be over. All the feeling. Then he could start basketball and walk up stairs and be normal again. And everyone would stop with the stupid pitying looks and whispers and people would be able to talk to him without treating him like he was gonna shatter and it would all be normal.

Well. Hopefully. Truth be told, he should probably have considered all the shit that he’d need to smooth over and talk to people about.

Like Rich. Who he hadn’t talked to since said boy burned his house down.

Now, Jake was very reasonably, confusedly, utterly _pissed_ _._ Yes, the whole evil robot thing had been explained to him. Yes, it was probably the robot making him do it. But it just…

It didn’t make sense. Jake wanted it to make sense.

But getting it to make sense meant talking to Rich. Which was scary, but he’d do it.

So once his legs were unbandaged and he was out of his wheelchair, he jumped down the stairs at the hospital and shot a text to Rich.

 

_**Today** 3:24 PM_

**_You:_ **

_we should talk. tomorrow after school at our place?_

 

He got in his car and waited with baited breath as he waited for a response. Waited for the three scary dots.

And then...

 

_Read, 3:26 PM_

 

No dots.

As Jake slumped in his car seat he waited for anything to pop up. Later, back in his hotel room he waited. Eating dinner he waited. Brushing his teeth he waited.

And as he lay in bed with no response, he began to wonder if it was all in vain. Were things so fucked between them that they couldn’t even have one god damn conversation to try and sort things out?

Because truth was, Jake missed Rich. Rich meant so much to him. Rich meant the _most_  to him. And if one more person left him hanging… what would he do with himself?

His phone, sitting on the bedside table, gave a harsh vibration and Jake startled out of his worried, half asleep state.

He told himself to not get his hopes up. His body didn’t listen, flailing desperately for his phone, the shitty hotel bed creaking under him.

 

_**Today** 10:47 PM_

**_WTF RICHARD!?:_ **

_sorry. i had to deal with my dad. yeah lets do it_

 

A part of Jake felt a little shameful that he was more relieved over getting a positive response than he was worried about what Rich's dad had done this time. Whatever. Not all was lost. Nothing was weird.

Normal was within reach.

 

* * *

 

 

It was cold as shit. He should’ve said to go to Sbarro’s instead.

Still, there were so many memories that came from the warehouse. He’d bought weed from Dustin from inside that little pothole (hah,  _pot_ hole) off to the side near that huge tree. And there was the car with a cracked windshield he and Chloe had had sex in once. And of course, he’d spent a lot of time with Rich here. Finding old abandoned beer and sodas in the woods and daring each other to drink them, climbing on the fence while trying not to fall and break their necks, lighting some of the few pieces of furniture inside on fire (probably won’t do that again after… yeah), and climbing on the roof for deep, stoned conversations about their problems in the early hours of the morning.

Speaking of deep conversations.

“Where should we go? For… yeah,” Rich asked, obviously dreading the impending conversation as much as Jake was.

“Uh, how about the flat part of the roof?” He shrugged. It didn’t really matter where they went, but Jake was honestly just looking for an excuse to stretch his legs. What better way to do that then a perilous climb to the top of a building?

Rich nodded and, without waiting up for him, headed for the door of the warehouse. There was a ladder on the side of the building leading to the roof that would’ve been quicker, but Rich must have decided to take the long way. Probably to postpone the inevitable. Gut twisting, Jake followed.

As he walked through the run down building, Jake remembered once again that this place would be an awesome spot for a party. Gigantic with lots of space, and far away from people and police. But Jake would probably never have one at the warehouse anyways. It was… private. His spot. Well, his and Rich’s. It was a rare occasion for anyone else but them to be there and Jake liked that secret.

They hopped up the shady stairs that felt like they would break if they pressed too much weight into a single step, crawled out the window on the second floor, and then twisted around to pull themselves on the roof.

They positioned themselves so their backs were to a gigantic rusted air vent, giving themselves a windbreak (seriously, it was so cold. Why didn’t Jake say to just stay inside? Oh well. It was too late at that point). Once they were seated and somewhat comfortable, Jake took a deep breath to calm himself and faced his friend.

Jake was still getting used to the scars. Sure, Jake had a few himself. One on the back of his calf, another on his forearm, and one more on his hip. But with Rich it wasn’t as easy to hide, though he was obviously trying to cover it up, and it tugged at Jake’s heart. On his arms, neck, one side of his face. Whatever reason Rich had set the fire aside, he’d gotten really hurt, almost  _died._

Jake had to remember that.

Rich also looked significantly more… more _human_ , felt like the right word. Looking out into the silhouetted woods, his eyes were half lidded and shined with a sort of grief Jake hadn’t seen in anything but the mirror, and his lips quirked in the tiniest frown. It was all slight. The slight furrow in his brow, the slight hunch of his shoulders. He looked defeated.

“What?”

Jake had been staring. He blinked awake and looked down sheepishly at Rich, who was now focused fully on him.

“Nothing, um. It’s just really good to see you, I guess.” He avoided eye contact, “I missed you.”

Rich gave a tiny nod, as if he didn’t believe him.

“Do you wanna go fir- uh, you begin?” Rich asked.

Jake was taken slightly aback. He didn’t think Rich would want to jump into it so quickly. He was expecting some awkward small talk until they were semi-comfortable. That apparently wasn’t the case.

“Um, well… How are you doing? After… yeah?” That felt like a safe way to start.

“You can ju- you can yell at me,” Rich sighed, crossing his arms.

“Why would I yell at my best friend?” Jake’s heart panged. Yeah, he was confused and a bit angry at Rich but he would never yell at him.

“Why wouldn’t you!?” Rich snapped.

This was already going all wrong. Jake swallowed.

“Okay, well, how do you want to do this? Do you wanna, like, explain what happened on your end?”

Rich opened his mouth to supposedly do just that, but then snapped it shut and turned his whole body away from him. Jake’s stomach dropped.

“Are you just not gonna talk to me?” He asked in disbelief.

No response.

 _Okay,_ Jake thought, _I can do this. I can be patient. He’s been through a lot. I can do that!_  
  
he waited.

It must have been a good ten minutes of just sitting with his back to the cold air vent, the wind biting his cheeks and nose. His hands had sucked into the sleeves of his coat to protect them from the cold and he found himself counting the stars that dotted around the moon. He was tempted to pull his phone out and entertain himself, but he didn’t want to seem like an asshole.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to sit and wait for Rich to open up. It didn’t seem all that long ago when he’d been sitting in Rich’s room, waiting in silence for an hour for Rich to confess where his black eye had come from and why Jake couldn’t stay the night.

Just as his ass was getting sore from sitting on the concrete roof, Rich shifted next to him. He didn’t turn fully towards Jake, but he too now faced forward, staring up at the stars.

_Okay, here we go. He’s gonna explain everything to me!_

It was silent for another moment before Rich shivered and let out a long, shaky breath.

“I’m cold.”

Or not. Well, at least it was something.

Rich shivered again and Jake felt a little guilty. Rich wasn’t wearing much except for a sweatshirt, unlike Jake who’d came prepared with a winter jacket. It was ridiculously cold for a Friday November night; 20-something degrees.

“Here–“ Jake offered. It was the least he could do. He scooted closer to the boy next to him and slung an arm around his shoulder casually. Rich tensed up at the contact, eyes widening. That was unusual. He was usually fine with physical contact. Then again, could that even be considered the normal between them any more?

But any thought he had about pulling away eased when Rich’s shoulders slumped and he scooted closer as well. Their sides smushed together, and when Rich finally turned to face him his breath hit Jake's face in warm clouds of mist.

Rich stared up at him for a moment, eyes like a guilty dog’s, and Jake’s heart pounded.

“I’m- I-“ Rich grimaced in frustration, “I apologize.”

Jake couldn’t help the guffaw that escaped. “‘You _apologize_ '? Dost thou require a quill for thou’s apology essay?”

“Shut up.”

It was weird. Rich wasn’t stuttering, more or less changing the sentence halfway through his thought. Jake didn’t think he’d ever seen Rich do that before.

He continued teasing. Because that was their normal. “Seriously. You talking okay, dude? This isn’t middle school social studies. You don’t have to recite the Declaration of Independence to me!”

“I _said stop_ _!_ ”

Jake stopped.

Rich’s eyes widened and he smacked a hand over his mouth, looking away. It sounded like he was murmuring “no no no no no,” but his voice was too muffled to tell.

Meanwhile Jake was trying to figure out what he did wrong. He hadn’t taken it too far, he thought. Usually their teasing would be a lot worse than that.

“I’m so stupid!” Rich groaned. Then his eyes widened again and a yelp escaped him.

“What? Sorry, what’d I do?”

But Rich offered no explanation, just squeezed his eyes closed and curled in on himself with his jaw set shut. Back to the silent treatment, it seemed.

Frustration flared in Jake’s stomach. This wasn’t going to go anywhere if Rich didn’t tell him what the hell was happening.

“Look, I’m sorry, but can you like, cooperate here?” He asked, edge to his voice.

Apparently not. Rich looked away again, brushing Jake’s arm of his shoulder.

His stomach see-sawed. Why did that simple gesture hurt so much?

“Please,” he was getting desperate at this point, “I just want to fix whatever’s going on. I’m worried. I want my best friend back.”

“I’m not your friend.”

… What?

“.... What?”

“The per- I’m not the per- the per- the _guy_ you’ve been hanging out with _isn't-_ I mean- fuck!”

It may have been the cold, but Jake could have sworn he saw Rich tearing up a bit. Either way, he obviously was stressed, digging his fingers into his crossed arms and face flushing red.

Rich continued stammering through sentences, switching words left and right and swearing under his breath. Jake got really worried when his breathing picked up- becoming shallower and shallower.

“Hey, hey, Rich?” Jake asked, trying to stuff down his own panic, “look here.”

Rich turned away fully with an alarmed, “No.”

“Rich please.” When Rich didn’t cooperate, Jake reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning his body to face him. Rich tried to bat his arms away. “Rich?”

The shorter boy averted his gaze, blinking back what were definitely tears viciously.

“What’s wrong?”

It took a lot of time for Rich to respond. He spent a bit of time with his eyes darting back and forth until they dropped down guiltily. Finally, he said, “My… um, my lisp.”

“What?”

“I have a lisp.”

He said it so guiltily, like he was ashamed of something so simple.

“You do?”

Rich’s eyes shot up to him and his jaw hung open. “You seriously didn’t notice?”

Jake shrugged. “I mean, now that you pointed it out, yeah. But like, is this new? Have you not had it before?”

Rich blinked blankly like a loading computer before responding, “No. Well, yeah, but um… my squip… you know what that is? It made me get rid of it.”

“Oh.”

“... you really really didn’t notice?”

“I dunno! I don’t pay attention to stuff like that.”

“Oh.” Rich slumped.

“Yeah.”

And that was that.

Seeing that Rich had calmed down, Jake let go of his shoulders and stared down at his lap. Rich didn’t make an effort to move away, which was reassuring.

Then it occurred to Jake.

“Why did it bother you so much that you had to try and hide it?”

Tension’s strings lifted Rich’s shoulders again. “Because um, I thought you’d think it was lame, I guess.”

“Oh.” It seemed kind of stupid to think, honestly. “Well, I don’t care so, that’s good news for you.”

“You don’t?”

It started to click at that point. How Rich was so distant suddenly, almost scared. Jake didn’t know everything about squips, but the ten minutes he had one told him everything.

“Did your squip make you think I would?”

The silence confirmed the theory.

Jake frowned. He didn't think he was  _that_ critical of people, was he? To the point he was judgemental of how they talked?

Before he could open his mouth, Rich spoke.

“It made me afraid of everything. It changed everything about me. I couldn’t talk like I normally did… couldn’t watch any movie I wanted without its approval. Wouldn’t even let me think about some things.” He swallowed, “The things it said to me… the things it called me… I hated myself.”

The words hung heavy in the cold air. Jake watched the cloud of steam in the air from Rich’s words dissipate.

He wasn’t done. “I forgot who I was before it, ‘cause I was so dependent on it. Jake…” He bit his lip. His next words were cautious and slow, “the guy you’ve been talking to these past three years… he wasn’t _me_.”

Rich’s gaze went blank after that. Jake felt uncertainty press at his chest and a genuine "oh shit" feeling overtook him.

And then in the faintest voice, Rich whispered, “But… I don’t really know who _me_ is anymore, anyways.”

In that moment he looked so helpless. Jake had never seen Rich look so small (other than in the short sense) and so gone from reality. He couldn’t help but stare at his friend in macabre fascination.

He broke from his trance when the first tear fell down Rich’s cheek. And then he knew he had to say something.

“I do,” Jake said.

Rich snapped back into focus, rushing to wipe away his tears. “What?”

“I know who you are,” Jake said with confidence. Because he did.

Swallowing a sob, Rich looked up at him, eyes shining with tears.

“I know that you’re a huge ass nerd,” he began.

“… Didn’t I cover that up?”

Jake snorted, “Are you kidding? You should’ve seen the way your eyes lit up when I asked if you wanted to see Black Panther with me.”

Rich’s cheeks went pink, though that again could’ve been from the cold, and his eyes darted away.

“I also know that you’re a fucking memelord.”

Rich gave a noncommittal huff of laughter, eyes still cast downward.

“And… I know that you pretend to not like pineapple on pizza but then steal it from Brooke when she isn’t paying attention.”

The corners of Rich’s mouth twitched in a smile.

“And I know that you’ve always wanted to adopt a corgi so that you can have something as small and cute as you.”

“Uh, cute?” Rich's eyes went wide.

Realizing his mistake, Jake chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, your words, not mine.”

Rich mumbled something and slumped again.

Jake took a moment before he continued, knowing things were going to get touchy. “I know that you’re scared. A lot of the time. Of a lot of things.”

Silence.

“You’re scared of fire.”

Rich went dead still.

“You’re scared of going home after school is over.” He knew not to elaborate, “And you’re scared of me.” The way Rich was cowering told him that much, “And of yourself.”

Rich was so quiet Jake might’ve thought he was dead, if not for his rapid, nervous breathing. Jake worried he went too far. That was a lot of stuff to be called out on, and Rich was already so stressed. Jake quickly tried to think of how to fix things.

Pushing the, _“Are you kidding? That’s really gay, dude,"_  thoughts aside (they were alone. It’s not like anyone would see), he decided the answer was to gently take Rich’s hands, and scoot in closer. He laced their fingers together and squoze reassuringly.

Rich gave a sound of surprise, tense like a startled deer, but made no effort to pull away. Reluctantly, he looked Jake in the eye.

Their knees were touching with how they were sitting, and their breath once again blew in each other’s face.

Jake wasn’t cold anymore.

“And I know,” he continued at last, “that you care about me just as much as I care about you.”

Rich’s eyes darted between their hands and Jake’s face. A couple more tears escaped, and he croaked out a shaky, “ _Jake_ , what-“ and then broke off, disguising a sob with a cough.

Something in Jake fluttered, urging him to lean down to Rich’s eye level. Now they were so close that Jake could see every freckle bathed in the faint moonlight.

“So, I guess you _haven't_ been completely lying to me this whole time, huh?” Jake finished with a soft grin.

For a glorious moment there was just them, for once. Them and the heat in Jake’s chest, on the roof of a shady abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Just them and Rich’s shaky breaths fanning over him. Just them and Rich’s hands that squeezed Jake’s fingers so hard it hurt. Just Jake and Rich.

“I-“ Rich choked out, “I can’t do this.”

“What?”

Rich ripped his hands away like they burned, scooting away in a panic. “I can’t… I have to go.”

Jake suddenly felt very cold again. He thought for sure that he was doing the right thing. He’d been trying to make Rich feel better, but now he was just leaving?

“Wait, what’s going on, what’d I do!?” He asked, voice raising with every word.

“Nothing!” Rich reassured, but the tears bubbling out of him told a different story. He got to his feet, and looked down the other end of the roof, beginning to walk away. “I just.. I just gotta…”

Jake got to his feet too. There was no way he was going to lose this boy again.

His chest hammered. Memories of fire and police sirens and a note on the kitchen table explaining his parent's disappearance flashed through him, and in utter panic he blurted out, “Don’t leave me again!”

The words caught Rich’s attention. He turned back to Jake. Their eyes locked.

And that was all it took, really.

As if they were boneless, Rich’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a yelp.

Funny how such a simple action, such simple words could start it all.

Jake wondered briefly if he’d fainted, with the way he’d fallen. But Rich was very much conscious, as easy to see by how he was blinking back at Jake in utter horror.

The tension was gone when Rich looked away again, and began to push himself back on his feet…

And once again, fell to the ground.

This action repeated several more times. Curious, Jake slowly began to walk towards Rich until he stood right next to him, reaching out a hand.

The boy on the floor was too caught up in his own situation to notice Jake approaching. He realized the presence next to him, and looked back in fear, disregarding the hand Jake was reaching out.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammered out at last, “I can’t stand up. My legs won’t… I can’t…”

He tried to push himself up once more before giving up. He sat there, panting, before once again looking at Jake’s outstretched hand.

The gesture managed to break him completely. Rich had only a second to slam a hand over his mouth before sobs poured out of him. The floodgates were down and salty tears streamed from his eyes, his entire body shaking. Yet he didn’t look away from Jake.

Jake was completely unsure of what was going or why Rich’s legs were no longer functional. But he knew that Rich was hurting. And somehow it was his fault. And somehow he needed to fix it.

He crouched out and gently rested a hand on Rich’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Voice cracking, Rich repeated his previous statement. “I can’t stand up. I- I don’t know why. I can’t stand…”

“That’s okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna help you.” Jake slotted an arm around Rich’s back, keeping a firm grip. “Okay, on three I’m going to stand up, and you’re gonna try and push yourself up. Okay?”

After a moment, Rich nodded.

“Okay. One, two, three.”

Rich wasn’t much help. Jake pretty much lifted him up while Rich clung on for dear life. He had no idea how he was going to get them off the roof at this rate, but he couldn’t completely afford to care. He steeled his mind and began to slowly stumble forward.

Rich clawed at his shirt, trying to upright himself. “I promise I’m trying— it just won’t—“

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you, dude.”

Dodging the holes and debris and trash, Jake walked them across the building until they came to the ladder leading to the ground.

“Gonna set you down now.”

He did just that, huffing out deep breaths and letting his arms recover.

Rich looked up at him from the floor.

“You’re not gonna leave me here… are you?”

“What?” He laughed, hiding the concern that Rich genuinely thought he would do that, “No! What kind of person do you think I am? We’ll figure it out.”

Rich gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.”

Jake went over to look down the ladder. And… yeah. That was a big drop. He bit his lip and tried to think. This was gonna be pretty dangerous no matter what they did.

“Okay…” he said finally, “I’m gonna put you on my shoulders and… uh, we’re gonna climb down together and you’re just gonna use your arms, I guess.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Won’t be the stupidest thing we’ve done.”

“True.”

They maneuvered themselves into position and began the perilous journey downwards. Jake was trying to use one hand on the ladder and one had to support Rich. And it was working, but it made him extremely nervous.

But slowly, they managed to get down most of the ladder safely. It was only when Jake’s feet were six rungs off the ground when Rich shouted, “ _Jake!_ ”

That was all the warning he got before he heard the sharp ring of a hand slipping off of metal, and felt the weight on his shoulders leaning backward.

In a split second, Jake realized that Rich was going to fall no matter what. If Jake kept holding on he’d be okay.

So, of course, he let go of the rungs and twisted around, grabbing Rich by the torso and falling with him.

It wasn’t a huge drop, but hitting the ground still knocked the breath out of them. Jake hoped he’d been able to break Rich’s fall a little bit.

“Sorry…” Rich muttered, coughing. He rolled off of Jake’s chest.

“Nah, you’re good. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. You?”

“I’m fine.” Jake forced himself to stand up. “Ready to keep moving?”

Rich held out a hand. Jake pulled him up, his muscles groaning at him, and continued to walk again.

Jake’s car wasn’t too far, just a little through the forest, but with their snail pace it felt like it was miles out of reach.

The walk was mostly silent, save for the sounds of the night. But another thing Jake knew about Rich was that he could never shut up for long. So he wasn’t surprised when he was the first to break the silence.

“Why are you doing this?” He murmured in disbelief, “I’ve been such an asshole to you. Just… why?”

Jake slowed his steps down and thought about it. Rich wasn’t entirely wrong. Why?

“Because…” he started, trailing off and turning his head to look at the boy latched onto his shoulder.

And… well, there was Rich. Rich’s familiar brown eyes that seemed so deep and tired up close. Rich’s mouth and cheeks and nose. Jake’s Rich. The one that was always there, even through the squip.

He was doing it… because it was _Rich._

And… well…

A firework of warmth and butterflies exploded in his stomach and shot down to his legs, turning them to warm gelatin. His legs went limp and sent them crashing to the floor.

Jake barely had time to think about his legs and whether or not they’d just magically broken again. He was too busy with his face buried in Rich’s chest on the forest floor. There was nothing in his head except for “Rich.” That and the opposing tugs at each side of his heart, one that yelled “ _What— what the shit is going on!? Your legs, and Rich, what!?_ ” and the other that calmly said, “ _Of course it’s_ him, _you dumbass_.”

“Jake…?”

He tried to stand, or even just sit up at Rich’s tone, but his legs just… didn’t work.

He pushed himself up using his already exhausted arms and looked down at Rich’s shadowed face. The position they were in was rather compromising, and Jake’s core, in the pit of his stomach, whined a little in awareness.

Rich’s eyes were searching for a confirmation and little whimpery breaths came out of him.

“So, um…” he asked, swallowing, “You... you too?”

It took Jake a moment to realize what he was asking. And then he managed to piece together what had just happened, and why his legs were once again out of commission despite just healing, and why his heart was hammering so hard.

A cocky grin bloomed across his face. “Did you seriously have to fall for me on the roof? Couldn’t have waited to be seduced until we got down here?”

Rich sputtered out sounds that could have been various different words.

“Uh… yeah. Me too.” Jake shrugged. He hoped that sufficed for an answer.

Rich’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Wow. Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

Despite his heart wanting to stay there with Rich forever (especially in _this_ position), his rational mind took over for a moment. “Wait… so… how are we gonna get home?”

Rich’s face fell. “You’re seriously thinking about that _now_?”

“Yeah? It’s important? Are we gonna drag ourselves to the car? How-“

He was cut off when Rich grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down, their lips smashing together. Jake mmph-ed, but smiled into the kiss nonetheless. He leaned down on his elbows to get closer as Rich’s hands dragged down to his neck, his back, caressing his sides, down down down. Jake lifted a hand to his cheek and gave a soft bite to his lip, chest shaking in laughter. Rich squeaked...

And… _well._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha get it it's a pun
> 
> ... please tell me that made sense or else this entire fic is gonna be a mess lmao
> 
> \-- 
> 
> ANYWAYS AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS NO ONE ASKED FOR:
> 
> So my theatre production class recently went to a competition where we competed against other schools with one act plays. While we were there we got to watch other schools perform. One play we saw that really caught my eye. It was called "Almost, Maine" by John Cariani, which was basically a play about a ton of soulmate stories and it was adorable. They even had a gay couple and everyone in the audience s c re a m ed. Long story short - I got hella inspired and this entire fic is based off of some of the cute shit I saw in that play. I hope you enjoy the ride.


	2. Her broken heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke bares her broken soul. Chloe’s gonna kill whoever did that to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--EDITED 3/25/19--

“Do you think this would look good on me?”

Chloe turned to face Brooke, holding up a indigo jean jacket. It’d taken her a moment to find the one that matched the mannequin in the window of the American Eagle, but she’d managed to find it in the back corner of the store.

Brooke shrugged, barely sparing her a glance. “Probably.”

Chloe frowned. What kind of answer was that? Much help Brooke was being. Rolling her eyes and brushing off the comment, she strided over to the nearby mirror, slipping the jacket on.

It was short, reaching halfway down her ribs before cutting off cleanly. It looked sharp and the color made her eyes pop.

She turned to look back at her friend. “Well? I think it’s a high contender.”

Brooke gave her a one over and allowed a small smile. “Yeah. I think so too.”

That was a satisfactory enough answer. Chloe turned her body so her ass faced the mirror, studying the jacket some more. Compared to her tight fitting shirt and jeans it was stiff and a bit blocky, creating a nice contrast on her slim shape. Yeah. Definitely a keeper.

In the mirror, Chloe caught Brooke staring at her. She was nibbling on a nail, painted pink from when they were at the salon earlier that day, as her gaze focused intensely downwards. It was almost like she was staring at Chloe’s…

“I know. I just got these jeans,” Chloe said smugly, “they’re cute, right?”

Brooke’s eyes widened and she squeaked snapping her gaze away. “Yeah! Uh… very cute.” Brooke sputtered out.

Chloe laughed. There was really no reason for Brooke to be so embarrassed. She didn’t care if anyone stared, Hell, that was the _point_.

“Alright,” she sighed, turning away from the mirror and slipping the jacket off, “let’s get this and then I think we’ll go home.” She went to look at the tag, checking the price.

“...What about me?” Brooke asked.

“What about you?” Chloe responded, looking back up at her.

For a moment, Brooke seemed genuinely taken aback. She blinked back at her before crossing her arms and pouting, looking down at the floor.

“You said we would go to Pinkberry after the mall.”

Oh yeah. Chloe had said that. She had forgotten.

“Right. Uh… what time is it?”

Answering her own question, Chloe pulled her phone out from her bag.

_Friday, November 16, 6:34 PM_

So it wasn’t too late. They could make it to Pinkberry and be home before her parents started to worry.

“Yeah. Sure. I guess we can do that.” She shrugged, heading for the counter.

“You _guess_?” Brooke guffawed.

“Uh… yeah?”

Chloe didn’t know why Brooke looked so offended. She shrugged the strange behavior off and went to pay.

In no time they were walking through the parking lot trying to locate Brooke’s Mom’s car. They found the old Subaru near the back of the lot. Chloe grinned at Brooke, who was busy rifling through her purse.

“To Pinkberry!” She cheered.

Brooke glanced up at her for a millisecond, and then looked back down to her purse.

“Actually… um, can I just drive you home?”

“What?”

“Yeah um… I don’t think I want to go anymore.” She shrugged, then muttered, “Where did I put them?”

Chloe blinked. “What? Why not?”

“Just don’t wanna.”

“Well, now I _do_ wanna. So can we please go?”

Brooke froze, pausing her rustling and chewing her lip. After a moment, she quietly said, “No.”

Chloe blinked again. “...What?”

Brooke cleared her throat and spoke up. “I said no.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

Brooke’s eyes got a little misty, and her voice was a little shaky, but her tone was final.

“Once I find my keys, I’m going to drive you home.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes, but she was more shocked than angry. Brooke had been behaving off all day. She seemed distant and almost… _upset_ with her.

“... Are you okay Brookie? Did something happen?”

“I’m okay,” she said after a pause, “I’d just like to go home now.”

Her tone was so flat and tight that it was hard to believe.

“Come on,” Chloe pushed on, “we never hide anything from each other!”

Brooke paused in her shuffling (how deep was her bag anyways?) and huffed out, “I’m just tired and hungry.”

“If you’re hungry we should go to Pinkberry.” Chloe rolled her eyes and gently elbowed her in the side. She snuck a hand into Brooke’s bag, grinning, “You must be blind. I’ll find them.”

Brooke jerked the bag away. “Chloe, stop.”

Chloe giggled at Brooke’s annoyance and tugged at the purse, “Nah, I’ll drive.”

“I said stop.”

Brooke tugged the purse back towards her aggressively. Chloe, now starting to get slightly pissed, tugged it back roughly. It flew from Brooke’s hands and Chloe, not expecting her to actually let go, dropped it, sending it skidding across the ground. A couple items slid across the icy pavement.

“Oh, shit— sorry!” Chloe swore, leaning down to grab everything.

Brooke leaned down next to her, not speaking. Her face was hidden by her hair, so Chloe couldn’t see her expression. She grabbed a pair of sunglasses and a pack of gum that had fallen and slid them into Brooke’s purse, muttering another apology. Once they had everything, Brooke stood up, sliding the purse back on her shoulder.

Chloe was about to stand up too until she noticed something. From the corner of her eye she saw a small, purple velvet pouch on the pavement. Brooke must have dropped that too, she thought. She reached over and grabbed it.

Before Chloe could even stand up fully, Brooke screeched, “Give that to me!”

Chloe turned to look at her. Brooke’s face was drained and panicked, and she lunged forwards to grab at the bag in Chloe’s hands. Chloe stumbled back in confusion, holding it tightly.

“What- Brooke?” She stuttered out.

Brooke’s eyes darted between her and the bag. “Please give that back, Chloe, I’m not joking. It’s already broken enough, _please_ give it back!”

Chloe didn’t think she’d ever seen Brooke look so terrified. She looked down to the bag and very gently rolled it around in her hand. The tiny sounds of glass scraping glass came from inside.

Brooke grabbed her wrist. “ _Please_!” She cried in alarm.

“Okay! Okay.” Chloe held it out to her and Brooke snatched it before she could even blink. Brooke turned away from her a little and opened the bag, peeking inside. After a moment, she sighed in relief.

“What’s inside?” Chloe asked, leaning closer to Brooke in an attempt to look inside.

Brooke pulled the drawstring tight, closing the pouch, and glared at her. “It’s none of your business.”

“You nearly ripped my arm off to get it back. I think I deserve to know.”

Brooke hesitated. But then she hugged the bag close to her chest and fervently shook her head.

“Oh come on. Brooke, you’ve been acting off all day, what’s going on?” Chloe leaned back on the hood of the car, ready to listen.

Brooke stayed quiet, eyes cast downwards.

“You know we never hide secrets from each other,” Chloe stated again, smiling gently.

Brooke grimaced at that. She was silent for a long moment before she muttered, “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

Chloe frowned. Why did Brooke want to get away from her so badly? Nevertheless, she nodded. So what? She was curious.

Brooke looked at her steadily for a moment, unmoving. The cold wind stung Chloe’s eyes, and she fought back tears as to not ruin her mascara.

Finally, Brooke opened the pouch and slid a hand inside. She picked out a couple things from inside before closing it again. Slowly, she reached her hand out to Chloe.

Cupped in her palm were two shards of porcelain glass, both colored a soft dandelion yellow. Chloe assumed that that was what the pouch was full of. She reached out to touch one and Brooke immediately recoiled.

“Can you stop trying to touch everything?” She snapped.

Chloe looked away guiltily. Brooke was right. She might have been about to touch some old, broken family heirloom, or something else that was really important to Brooke. She was about to find out.

“Sorry,” She said with an apologetic smile, “So… what is it?”

Brooke looked down at the ceramic in her hand, and then back to Chloe. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Chloe shrugged. “Shoot. I won’t judge you.”

Brooke closed her eyes and carefully rolled a shard between her finger and thumb. She took a deep breath, and in a tiny voice whispered, “It’s my heart.”

Chloe blinked. “What?”  
  
“I told you you wouldn’t believe me.” Brooke bit her lip. “It’s… my heart. I had it removed.”

Dumbly, Chloe said, “You’d be dead.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Not the muscle. Just… I guess… my soul heart.”

Chloe guffawed. “You’re shitting me. What is it really?”

Brooke narrowed her eyes. “Get out your phone right now and Google heart removal surgery.”

Chloe stared at Brooke incredulously, but got her phone out from the pocket of her winter jacket anyways.

As she typed in the search bar. Brooke came to lean on the car next to her, looking over her shoulder. She fidgeted with the pieces of ceramic nervously.

Chloe hit enter and was met immediately with a dozen articles from various news websites. All of which had some sort of outrageous headline like, “No more heartbreak!” or “New surgery removes second heart,” or, “Scientists discover a second heart within human beings.”  
  
“What the hell? Why haven’t I only found out about this until now?”

“The government doesn’t want the word getting out, or, something. I dunno. Those articles will be down by next week.”

Chloe blinked, processing. What even was this? What was the second heart anyways?

“What even is this? What is the second heart anyways?”  
  
“Uh.” Brooke swallowed, “You don’t technically need it to survive. Everyone has a different kind. It’s…” She shrugged, “It’s for love.”

Chloe studied Brooke, who was staring down at the shards in her hand with a dreamy, distant look. She almost seemed guilty.

“So…” Chloe muttered in confusion, “Why did you have yours removed?”

Brooke froze up, but laughed sadly. “You’d want your’s out too, if it was rattling around your chest like this.” She shook the pouch to demonstrate, the shards clacking together.

And then the realization came to Chloe.

The shattered pieces were Brooke’s heart.

Brooke’s heart had been shattered.

Brooke’s heart was _broken._

“What- how- why? Did someone hurt you? What happened?” Chloe bolted upright in alarm.

Brooke stayed quiet as Chloe fired off questions. When she paused for a breath, Brooke interjected, “Can we go home now? I told you everything.”

“No! What happened!? Whoever it was I’m gonna beat their ass!”

“Chloe it doesn’t really matter. I can’t feel it anymore anyways.” Brooke opened the pouch and slid the pieces in her hand inside. Chloe looked in and saw what looked like hundreds of shiny yellow porcelain pieces. Her gut twisted.

“Brooke please. I don’t care if you can’t feel it anymore, it’s not _fair_ that this happened _._ Just tell me what happened please.”

“You said you’d leave me alone.”

“Yeah, after you explained! And you’re not done explaining!”

Brooke clutched the bag tightly. “I can’t tell you. You’d get angry.”

“I already am angry! I’ll feel better if you just tell me. Please, Brookie.”

Brooke shivered against the wind and held herself anxiously. She looked at Chloe for a moment before shrugging and mumbling, “It’s been cracked for a while, now. Um… just… the last person I trusted it with… I thought they would fix it… they betrayed me. And it just… broke, I guess.”

Chloe thought for a moment. Who was the last person who had hurt Brooke like this?

And then she remembered.

“Jeremy _fucking_ Heere.” 

“What?”

Her hands balled into fists. “I am going to _ruin_ him.”

“Why? What are you-” Brooke’s eyes widened, “Oh, no no no-”

“It’s him, right? I knew he was an asshole. Acting all innocent and lonely, and especially after all that robot bullshit-”

“Chloe no-”

“I can’t believe that he… Jesus, actually, I can believe it. He always did seem like a creep and-”

“Chloe, it wasn’t him!” Brooke shouted. A man passing by with several shopping bags glanced over at them before hurrying along.

Chloe laughed sourly. “Oh really? Then who broke-”

“ _You_  did! It’s _you_ , okay!?”

The air suddenly felt 20 degrees colder. And Chloe felt like she’d run into a brick wall.

“I’m… what?”

Brooke’s shoulders shook and a few fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes were narrow and her mouth set in a terrifying scowl.

“There, I told you, okay?”

Chloe felt herself physically unable to move. Her stomach rolled as Brooke moved away from her side, over towards the car door.

“Let’s just go home.”

Chloe shook herself awake. “Uh, what? Wait? What? I-” She looked down to the pouch in Brooke’s fist, “I did that?”

Brooke’s throat visibly clenched as she nodded.

“But… what? No I didn’t!” Chloe scoffed, “I never hurt you! I’ve only been nice to you!”

Brooke whirled around, “Bullshit!”

“Uh-”

“No! You want to know what’s going on so badly so I’m going to tell you. I’m tired of holding my tongue.” She took a deep shaky breath, “God. Where do I begin?”

“Don’t!” Chloe butted in, “I- Brooke, if this is about Halloween, I was drunk-”

“Halloween or not, this was a long time coming. You were going to break it eventually anyways.”

“Then what did I do!?”

“I’m trying to tell you!” Brooke hiccupped.

Chloe snapped her mouth shut.

“... Like I said. You were gonna break it eventually. I knew you would. I knew you were hurting me.” She swallowed and sniffed, “But I stayed around you. Because, I thought, because maybe you would change. You always apologized. I thought, ‘okay, she says she’s sorry, she won’t hurt me again,’ but you always did! Do you know how awful it feels to just sit around and watch you hurt people every day? Because now, ha, now everyone thinks _I’m_ the bitch just ‘cause I’m _associated_ with you.”

Chloe tried to process the rapid fire. She wondered, suddenly, what people were saying to Brooke. Chloe had gotten a lot of shit for the things she’d said before, but she’d never thought about what was going on at Brooke’s end.

“Every day you shove me aside. You never stop and think about what I want to do or who I want to hang out with. If I ever say one thing you don’t agree with you flip out on me, and it’s like… fuckin’... what do they say… walking on eggshells- that’s it- and…” She squeezed her eyes tight, “I’m tired of staying quiet about it and pretending nothing’s wrong between us!”

Brooke went fairly quiet after that, just resorting to hiccuping out angry sobs.

Chloe couldn’t really focus on doing more than breathe at that point. She’d never seen Brooke so angry, and she’d never expected the anger to be driven towards her. How long had her friend been holding this in? Was that why she was so distant lately?

Chloe also desperately thought of any way to disprove Brooke’s statements. But she couldn’t find any excuse. Her behaviour earlier proved that. Her heart grew heavy as she recognized her own ignorance.

After a moment she found it in herself to ask, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want you to lash out or hate me or something. You’ve kinda been known to do that whenever anyone tries to call you out on your bullshit.”

“Oh.”

 _Wow_ , she thought to herself, _I really am a shitty friend_.

“I really hurt you that bad?” Chloe whispered, glancing down at the heart-bag.

Brooke nodded, slowly breathing out a huge cloud of mist. Probably trying to calm herself down.

A few tears pricked at Chloe’s eyes. It wasn’t like she’d been trying to hurt Brooke. She’d never thought she’d been doing anything wrong. Not that that was a good enough excuse, she knew, but the fact that she’d upset her friend so much still made her sick with guilt.

“Brooke, you should’ve said something, I didn’t… I never knew-”

“It’s not my fault!”  
  
“I’m not saying it is!” Chloe felt her throat tighten. She blinked back tears. “I just… If I’d known, maybe… maybe then it wouldn’t have… broken.”

Brooke stared intensely through the snow covered car window. Her bare hand rested on the door handle. It seemed as if she disagreed.

As Chloe focused on not crying, Brooke wiped away her own tears.

Then Brooke muttered, “I should have never fallen in love with you.”

Chloe thought she’d misheard. “You what?”

Brooke gave her a sideways glance. “It’s not like I care that you know. Your rejection won’t hurt me anymore anyways.”

A strained squeaky noise croaked out of Chloe’s throat. She already felt like she’d been stabbed the chest. Now it felt like she’d been simultaneously lit on fire.

“Maybe that’s why I stayed around, too. I dunno,” Brooke continued, “And yeah I got like… crushes and stuff. Like with Jeremy. But… it was always you. Lucky me.”

Gaping like a fish, Chloe recalibrated. When she figured out how her mouth worked again, she stuttered out, “Shit, Brooke. I… I didn’t…”

Because really, she didn’t mean for any of this to happen. She wished she’d known sooner. About how much she was hurting Brooke. About how Brooke apparently loved her, which Chloe wasn’t totally sure how she felt about yet. Love or not, she’d hurt Brooke. Broken her heart and put her through pain that she didn’t deserve and it was all her fault. Everything was her fault. Brooke was standing out in the cold crying and that was her fault too. They’d been there for at least ten minutes. Then minutes of Brooke pouring her heart out (literally) and Chloe hadn’t even apologized yet.

Oh shit.

_Chloe hadn’t even apologized yet._

“I’m so sorry!” She blurted immediately after the realization. Despite her best efforts, a few tears streaked down her face. “Holy shit Brooke, I’m so awful, holy shit…”

Brooke seemed almost a little surprised. “You’re not mad?”

“No! Of course I’m not mad. Oh God, I had no idea… I didn’t mean to hurt you, holy shit…”

“Oh.”

She wiped tears away with a thumb, trying to not smear her eye makeup but eventually giving up and wiping with her coat sleeve. “Please Brooke, I’m so sorry and I know that doesn’t fix it, but like… how do I make this better? I don’t…”

Brooke looked up to her. For a moment her brow furrowed in concern, and she looked like she was two steps away from yanking Chloe into a hug. But then her shoulders tightened. Even as tears rolled down her face, she kept her tone even. “I think we should spend some time apart.”

Chloe had a good three seconds to process the sentence before pain speared through her chest. She gasped and her legs wobbled. It felt like a knife was being dragged down her ribcage, cracks spider-webbing out from the initial cut. Eyes wide as the hot, bone-shattering feeling spread outward, she looked up to Brooke through the waterfall of tears.

“Wh- hurts- I don’t know what’s-” She started in a wobbling voice.

She stumbled and fell against the side of the car, trying to find her footing. She yelped in pain and somewhere in the back of her mind _really_ regretted wearing heels.

To her right, Brooke cried her name out in alarm. A moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder and she stared into green eyes. The pain eased ever so slightly.

“ _Help_ ,” She croaked out.

“What? What’s going on!?” Brooke’s panicked breaths fanned across Chloe’s face. It was warm and nice.

“Chest… like- splitting open.” She stuttered out in between heavy breaths.

Brooke’s eyes narrowed in thought a moment, the green going dark, and then widened again.

“Oh _shit_ , Chloe- no, I didn’t mean-” Brooke choked on a sob, “No, I didn’t want… I didn’t mean to-” Her voice raised in alarm.

“Brooke, _help_!” Chloe shouted again.

“Uh,” Brooke blurted out, “I’m not leaving you! I promise!”

And three seconds later, the cracking stopped.

“I _promise_ ,” Brooke repeated, and Chloe knew she meant it that time.

And then whatever cracks were there receded a little. And then a little more. And it felt warm. But a good warm. Not like the searing heat she’d felt before. And the pain slowly faded. Eventually, most of the hurt was gone, mostly everything fixed. Yet there was still a tiny gap left behind, and the whispers of an ache still swirled in her chest.

Chloe took a moment to catch her breath and upright herself. Cold air hit her neck and she realized she’d been sweating.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

“Was that…” She panted out, looking to Booke.

Brooke paused. “I think. Are you okay?”

The guilt seemed to replace the pain. In a way, it was almost more painful.

“You went through that?”

Brooke looked away, hugging herself. “... For months.”

The waterworks came back. Chloe swallowed back the salty taste in her mouth.

“Holy shit, Brooke, that’s… Holy shit.”  
  
Brooke shrugged. “You get used to it. It’s better when it’s cracked than when it’s broken. When it’s broken it’s just… empty feeling. But like… empty… but not completely numb, you know? Because the pieces are still in there. It makes you feel on edge all the time, 'cause you know it's past fixing, but... it's still there.”

“Holy shit,” Chloe muttered yet again.

“Chloe, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… you didn’t deserve it. Nobody should have to go through it. I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” Chloe was already neck deep in self loathing at that moment. It only felt fair to her, “you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m fine. I just…”

Chloe felt so overwhelmed. She wanted to disappear to a place that she couldn’t hurt Brooke. She just wanted to disappear. Period.

She choked on a sob and buried her face in her hands, the skin on her fingers dry from being exposed to the cold November air.

People had called her a bitch, a cunt, everything on the list. But now Chloe actually felt it. Now it was real and crashing down on her. And all she could do was cry.

Brooke’s hand slid off her shoulder and Chloe’s stomach coiled. She wanted Brooke to finally find her keys, get in the car, and leave her there alone in the lot. Or better yet, maybe Brooke would run her over.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe mumbled again into her hands. Then she said it again, and again, making it a mantra, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She stared at the swirling colors behind her eyelids as she cried. She felt lost.

And then, a voice from in front of her. “It’s okay.”

Chloe knew that it wasn’t okay. She knew it was horrible, and yet, hearing Brooke say that gave her instant comfort.

She wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her jacket and noticed black streaks from her mascara staining the fabric. Oh well.

When her eyes focused, Brooke was frowning softly at her. She didn’t seem angry anymore, instead rather conflicted.

Brooke sighed and looked at the purple pouch. She opened it and stuck her hand inside, again bringing out a couple shards. Staring inside for only another second, she closed the pouch and slid it in her purse. Brooke looked down at the ceramic, biting her lip, then looking back at Chloe. She looked between the two continuously, deep in thought. Chloe felt like an open book that Brooke was so interested in she was trying to memorize the footnotes.

Eventually, coming to some sort of verdict, Brooke sighed. Another tear rolled down her cheek.

“I can’t believe I’m forgiving you again.”

Neither could Chloe.

“But…” Brooke went on, “I’ll give you one more chance, oka-“

Brooke was cut off as Chloe latched onto her, burying her face in Brooke’s shoulder. She hugged her tightly, murmuring, “Thank you,” over and over again like a prayer. She wouldn’t screw it up this time, she swore to herself.

After a moment, Brooke reluctantly returned the hug. Chloe melted into her, fully aware that she was probably indulging more than she should be. She didn’t care.

It ended after a minute, though. Chloe pulled away and wiped her face again.

Brooke was looking down at her heart again and Chloe studied it too. She admired how the yellow reflected the pale moonlight.

“It’s beautiful,” Chloe remarked quietly.

“It _was_ beautiful.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I believe you.”

Chloe looked up and Brooke met her gaze.

She’d almost lost Brooke. Brooke had almost left. It’d almost broken her heart, too. And that pain… Maybe Chloe needed Brooke more than she thought.

Brooke had always been there through her bullshit. Through all the nasty comments thrown at her. Through all the “slut,” and, “whore,”and “bitch.” Brooke was so tolerant. And Chloe was so awful.

 _Beauty and the Beast_ , a voice in the back of her head chimed.

 _They were in love, though_ , she shot back.

_And you two aren’t?_

Chloe almost choked at the realization.

“I love you,” She blurted out. Shit.

Brooke didn’t notice. “I… love you too,” she said. Chloe knew she meant it, despite the hesitance.

Every part of Chloe begged her to shut up, but she continued, “No, Brooke, I _love_ you.”

Brooke frowned in confusion, which was kinda adorable. When she realized, her breath caught in her throat after a moment and her eyes darted, searching Chloe’s face.

“Oh, wait- really?” She breathed.

Chloe nodded. She smiled a little.

For a moment Brooke’s eyes were full of hope and light. The kind of look Chloe was familiar with Brooke wearing prior to Halloween. But then she stiffened and her face dropped.

“No.” Brooke stated.

“What?”

“No no no… I can’t- just… I mean that’s great, cause… but, I don’t think I can trust y- I… I can’t just…” She took a step away from Chloe and swallowed. “I’m sorry, I just can’t… I can be your friend and stuff, but _that’s_ like, too soon. I’m not… and my heart’s broken… I’m not ready- I-“

Chloe wasn’t offended in the least. Brooke needed time to heal. They both did. Chloe didn’t think she was any more ready to start figuring _that_ out than Brooke was.

“No no, I agree. That’s okay. I get it,” She reassured.

Brooke relaxed. “Oh, good. Thank God.”

They both let the silence hang in the air. Brooke still had her heart pieces in her open palm.

Chloe still felt like she hadn’t done enough for Brooke that night. She knew she couldn’t fix everything right away, but she wanted to at least reassure Brooke that she was going to do her best.

She stepped next to Brooke and gently cupped her hand in her own. The two broken pieces, she noticed, seemed like puzzle pieces. Their cracks matched up perfectly.

Once again she met Brooke’s gaze.

“I’m going to fix it,” she promised.

Brooke smiled sadly. “I don’t know if that’s possible, Chloe.”

“You fixed mine.”

“That was different. Mine’s completely broken. It’s not even _in_ me anymore, I don’t-“

“So yours’ may take a bit longer to fix. But I’m going to do it. And you got it out, I’m sure you can get it put back in.”

Chloe believed she could do it. She had to believe it. It made her feel less shitty to believe it.

“I’m gonna do my best. But if I’m hurting you, you have to tell me so I’ll stop. Okay?”

Brooke nodded after a beat. “Okay.”

Chloe gently pressed at Brooke’s fingers until they curled, closing around the heart pieces. She held her hand like that, enjoying the weight.

“I’m going to fix it.” She swore one more time.

Brooke’s eyes glistened with tears. But she smiled. It was a small smile. But it was a real smile. It said that she believed Chloe was right. Chloe smiled back.

And the emotional purge ended.

Chloe let her hand fall away from Brooke’s and shook herself, looking back towards the mall. The emotions of the whole ordeal melted away and she remembered where they were. The moon was out and it was cold as shit. They’d been out there for so long that all she wanted was to get into a heated car.

“You still down for Pinkberry?” She asked brightly, turning back towards the blonde.

But Brooke wasn’t looking at her. She was staring down at her palm, her body racking with sobs as tears streamed down her face.

But she was smiling.

“Chloe, _look_!” she cried out.

She held her now open palm out towards Chloe.

The two small shards were gone. In its place was a larger, single piece, smooth and without cracks.

Chloe gasped.

They’d fused back seamlessly.

  


They checked the doctor’s forum later that night. It stated that there were 374 shards in the bag.

In green sparkly ink, Brooke had crossed out the “4” and written a “3” above it.

373.

Hey, it was a start.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Seeing the thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna painted a thing. Christine's not sure she understands.

Jenna was alright, in Christine’s eyes. Another one of Chloe’s repressed lackies. A wannabe. A huge gossip, but hey, Middleborough needed to get its news from somewhere. Christine hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk with her, but she knew of her. Christine didn’t think about Jenna much because of such, but if she really thought about it, she’d probably say she wouldn’t purposely go out of her way to get to know Jenna. But, if the opportunity was presented to talk to Jenna, she’d take up the offer.

And, well, since there would be no story otherwise, an opportunity _was_ presented.

Most people would never hang around the school until 6:30, but most people weren’t Christine Canigula. After the whole squip incident, Mr. Reyes was pretty fried. _Everyone_ was pretty fried and none of them had bothered to come back and really clean up the set, put the costumes back, fix the scene shop or even sweep the stage. It was a mess.

And apparently, since Christine was the only one who had any dedication to the art of drama, even more so than her own _drama teacher,_ she had to be the one to clean it up.

To be fair, the short girl had made remarkable progress in the three-ish hours after school. She knew the department like the back of her hand so it wasn’t too hard of a one woman job. She managed. Or, at least, managed the best she could with her ADD getting in the way of her focus.

She was busy rolling the fake toxic waste barrels offstage when the door to the auditorium opened.

Now, being all alone in a huge theatre department, let alone auditorium, Christine wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to come in. So when someone did come in, Christine screamed. Loudly.

The person who walked in startled back with an, “Oh, fuck!” dropping the panel of… something… they were holding. The person looked up to Christine and- oh, of course- it was Jenna.

Immediately realizing her mistake, Christine dashed forwards and launched herself off stage, sprinting over to Jenna while yelling, “Sorry! I’m really sorry!”

Before Jenna had even begun bending down to pick up the board shaped package, Christine jumped forwards, picked it up, stood back up, and presented it to Jenna with a bow and flourish.

“For you.”

Jenna stared at her wide eyed, probably a bit confused, but laughed and took the parcel from her after a moment. “Uh, thanks. Sorry I scared you.”

“Oh, no no!” Christine reassured, “You’re totally fine! I just didn’t think anyone else would be around at this time, and I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

“Yeah… to be fair, I didn’t think I’d find anyone in here either…” Jenna smiled. It looked forced. The closer Christine stared, the more she began to notice.

Jenna’s eyes were red, her cheeks and nose puffy. Her mouth twitched with every second she tried to hold the smile.

Oh. Oh no.

“Hey,” Christine said, straightening up and frowning, “Are you okay?”

Jenna blinked blankly at her. “What?”

“Um… are you okay?”

The girl in front of her still didn’t speak.

“... Jenna?”

“Wh- oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I’m just not used to… I’m fine.”

“Not used to what?”

Jenna’s mouth twitched into a frown. “Just, nobody usually asks how I’m doing, is all.” 

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Christine smiled a little sadly. Thinking back, she remembered Chloe not being exactly nice to Jenna. She didn’t know how bad it was- Christine avoided popular people- but she still felt a little bad and figured that that was the usual for the girl.

Jenna shrugged. “Eh.”

Unsure how to approach the subject, Christine sucked in a breath and jumped to the point. “You don’t look so good. What’s up?”

Jenna shrugged again. “You probably don’t care.”

As if. Christine was invested now.

“No, it’s okay! I wanna know! I know you’re not okay, and I wanna make you feel okay. People tell me I’m good at that! I’m a good listener,” she prattled, “So I really don’t mind, and I’m just cleaning up kind of, so I can listen. And I’m good with secrets, even if I talk a lot. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m rambling, haha…”

Jenna gave an awkward smile, “It’s okay. Um… if you really don’t mind, I guess-“

Christine grabbed her wrist gently, tugging her over to the edge of the stage. She hopped up and sat on the apron. Jenna sat down next to her.

“Well?” Christine asked expectantly, cocking her head.

“Oh, well, um…” Jenna cleared her throat, “I just… It’s my painting.”

She set the brown parcel in her lap, sliding her hand inside. Christine looked over her shoulder, intrigued, as the back of a canvas was slowly revealed.

“Just…” Jenna paused to think. Then she sighed and stood up, turning towards Christine.“Okay, I’m gonna show you this, and you’re gonna tell me what you think it’s a painting of, okay?”

“Um, okay.”

Jenna pulled a plastic school chair in front of the stage, set the canvas down on it, and then stepped out of the way.

“Ta da.”                     

It was… something. Christine stared blankly at the colors, her brain processing.

“... What do you think?”

“Um… Just give me a moment.”

She thought she saw a line there. Maybe a dot there? Is that color orange or red?

As she attempted to decipher the art, Jenna rocked on her heels, staring down at the ground nervously.

Eventually, Christine’s brain came up with the most reasonable answer.

“A dog. It’s a dog, right?”

Jenna deflated. “Uh, no.”

“Oh, shoot, okay. Um… lemme try again…”

Christine raised a hand to her chin, squinting a little harder.

“Um… a sailboat!”

“... No.”

“Dang it! Um… here…” Christine stood up, moving upstage right, “Maybe if I get a different angle…”

She looked at it another minute.

“Okay! Okay, I really got it this time.” Rubbing her hands together, Christine was sure of her answer. “It’s… A bowl of fruit, in front of a sunrise, with a giant dragon behind it!”

She looked to Jenna for the confirmation, but Jenna just stared at her painting dejectedly, silent.

Feeling bad and realizing she was wrong, Christine walked over to where Jenna stood and sat down on the stage in front of her.

“... Was I close?”

Jenna shook her head no.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What is it?”

Jenna scoffed, “According to Chloe, ‘gross’ is the right answer.”

“What!?” Christine reeled, “She said that? That’s not true!”

Jenna’s voice sounded a bit choked up. “I dunno. Chloe’s right about a lot of things.”

“Nuh uh! Hey,” Christine crossed her arms, “Chloe’s just…” A bitch. Awful. Stupid. “... Moody, sometimes. She says stuff she doesn’t mean.”

“You don’t know that,” Jenna snapped, “She’s usually pretty good about speaking her mind.”

Christine frowned and went silent. She honestly wasn’t sure how to make the situation better.

Jenna continued, her voice wobbly. “I just… I know she doesn’t really care about me, or whatever, but I just thought… that she wouldn’t talk that way to me, I guess.” She swallowed, “She always does. I don’t know what I expected.”

She knew the question sounded rude, but she was too curious not to ask. “So why do you hang around her?”

Jenna actually seemed to stop and think, biting her lip.

“Because,” she responded at last, “I don’t have anyone else to hang around who wants to listen to me, I guess.”

“But all she wants is gossip from you. She doesn’t really care.”

Jenna flinched and curled in on herself, and Christine knew she’d gone too far.

She hopped off the stage and stepped towards Jenna, resting a hand on her arm gently.

“Sorry, that sounded really bad.” Jenna huffed and nodded. “I’m just saying that maybe… you should go out and find someone who really _does_ care about you. There’s like a thousand people at this school. Surely you can find someone!”

Jenna went quiet, staring down at Christine blankly. Then she laughed bitterly and shook her head.

“Yeah, I know like… half of the people here. And they really want nothing to do with me other than listen to my tea.”

Christine was stuck between pity that Jenna thought about herself that way, and the horror that she just said “tea” unironically.

“Then why do you keep feeding into that and giving them ‘tea’?”

More tears seemed to pool in Jenna’s eyes. She swallowed thickly and stepped back suddenly. Christine’s hand fell off her arm.

“Okay, what are you trying?”

Christine blinked. “Uh… To have a heart to heart with you?

Jenna choked out another sour laugh. “Why?”

Paling, Christine’s eyes darted back and forth. This was getting out of hand. “Because you’re hurting and I want to help.”

The first tears finally spilt over. Jenna shook her head and laughed again, but it came out more as a sob. “What’s your deal, Canigula?”

“... What?”

“Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get shit on you?” Jenna seethed, “There’s always opportunity to get blackmail on the weird theatre kid, let alone the one who dated Chloe Valentine’s ex _boyfriend-_ ”

“Wh- Jenna, you know that wasn’t-”

“And when Chloe and I _do_ ask you about Jake, you brush it off all innocent like you _weren’t_ doing it to get back at Chloe.”

“Because I wasn’t!”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t get it! Why are you so _nice!?_ ”

A silence filled the auditorium as Jenna tried to catch her breath and sort her thoughts through her sobbing. Christine wasn’t sure what to do other than stand there. She’d never dealt with anyone like this before. She was afraid to move without setting Jenna off again.

“I just don’t understand you, Christine. You spend all your time alone but everyone fucking _loves_ you. You’re a fashion disaster- no offense- but boys drool over you. You don’t swear or argue with anyone, and you’re almost always in a good mood. And you do this every day of every school year, being nice to everyone even if they’re assholes like me.”

What’s the opposite of a backhanded compliment? Because that’s what Christine felt like what was being shouted at her.

Jenna wiped at her eyes with a sleeve and took a deep, shaky breath. “So I’ll ask again. What’s your deal Canigula?”

If Christine had been at a loss for words before, now she was at a loss for thought. She gaped like a fish for a good ten seconds and tried to process everything Jenna had just said.

That wasn’t really how people saw her, was it?

Jenna crossed her arms and brushed past Christine, headed towards where her painting was still perched on the chair.

“Whatever,” she grumbled, “I should go. Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Wait!” Christine lurched forward and grabbed Jenna by the shoulder before she could get too far.

Jenna froze and turned back to her. “What.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I just… don’t know what to say.” Christine shrugged honestly. She wished more than ever that she had a script to tell her how to respond.

“So don’t say anything,” Jenna scoffed.

“I… yeah. But- no! I’m sorry, I just…” Christine pinched the bridge of her nose in thought, “I don’t want you to leave being mad at me.”

Jenna went silent and stared at the floor. Then she mumbled, “I’m not mad… I’m just…”

Christine frowned to herself. She’d always only seen Jenna at a face’s value. Never once had she stopped and considered how complex she was. It was weird, and Christine wished she could look inside Jenna’s brain and see where the previous outburst had come from. If Jenna wasn’t mad, then…

“I’m just…”

The word flew out of Christine’s mouth before she could filter herself. “Jealous?”

Jenna made a gawking noise and her face went a little red.

“I’m sorry!” Christine slapped a hand over her mouth, immediately realizing her mistake, “I’m so sorry!”

Jenna brushed Christine’s hand away yet again and curled in on herself. “I’m not-”

“I’m really sorry!”

Internally, Christine berated herself and lack of self control. She tended to have an issue with holding her tongue, and of course she’d blurt such a rude assumption at such a bad time.

“... I mean, fine. I guess a _little_. So what?”

Christine’s hand fell away from her mouth. “Huh?”

It took Jenna a moment to respond. “I guess I’m a little jealous.”

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Now Christine felt her face go warm. She’d never had anyone be jealous over her before. She didn’t think she was someone to really warrant jealousy anyways. But in a way she could see where Jenna was coming from.

It seemed like Jenna was a weird balance of needing a lot of attention, but not blatant popularity. Like she’d rather have a deep connection with one person than shallow connections with five.

“... I’m just gonna…” Jenna started backing away again.

Once again Christine blurted out, “Wait!” When Jenna stopped she continued, “You should… I mean, like, you know that I don’t have a… a 'deal,' right? Like you were saying? I assume you meant, um, how Chloe has a deal? Or, uh, you know a front she puts up? Like I’m not… This isn’t a front. I mean it’d kinda be a weird front- you know? A girl who’s really passionate about _Shakespeare_ , of all things-”

“Christine.”

“What?” She blinked, “Oh, gosh, I was rambling again. I’m sorry.”

“That’s… okay.” Jenna coughed, obviously uncomfortable.

“I just want you to know-” Christine started again.

Jenna cut her off, “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

And that was the end of that.

“Hey… um,” Christine said after a minute, “You know, you don’t have to hang around Chloe and Brooke all the time. You could sit with me and my friends- Jeremy and Michael? You know them?”

“‘Ecstasy’ Kid and Headphones Kid, oh joy. That won’t make me a laughingstock at all.”

“Oh, come on. They’re not bad.”

“Heere literally drugged us.”

“... It wasn’t his best moment.”

Jenna hummed in thought. “Hey, aren’t you two going out?”

Christine froze up a little. “Uh, no. I turned him down, actually.”

“Really? He nearly ended the world just to be with you!” Jenna paused. “On second thought, I get why you said no.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just him. he’s really nice, I promise. I’m just not… looking to date right now.”

“Yeah. Jake tends to have the effect on people.”

“Wh- no! That’s rude,” Christine berated, but she couldn’t help but giggle a little. To her surprise, Jenna returned a smile.

“Seriously though,” Christine said, returning to her original point, “You should hang out with people who don’t just… you know."

Jenna’s smile evaporated. “I dunno… Chloe might be mad.”

Christine tapped a foot on the ground in thought. At this point, she was a bit too invested in Jenna to let her go. She felt bad for her, sure, but Jenna was interesting. And maybe, with a bit of work, Christine would get to know her better and they would become friends.

“You know you don’t _need_ Chloe, right? You’re just her outlet.” Christine knew that sounded a bit rude. She didn’t like talking about people behind their backs, not even Chloe, but it felt necessary. “One of the main reasons Chloe’s so popular is because of the information you give her. You don’t need her, she needs _you_.”

Jenna chewed on that for a long moment before she looked up to Christine with a grin. “Yeah, you know what? Fuck her! I don’t need her.”

Christine couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah! That’s the spirit!” Then she rocked back and forth on her feet a little, clasping her hands behind her. “Soooo… Lunch then?”

Jenna took another minute to consider the proposition before nodding with a surefire look in her eye. “You know what, Canigula? You’ve got yourself a date.”

Bouncing a little, Christine pumped a fist in the air, “Heck yes! Hooray for platonic-school-lunch dates!”

Jenna laughed. It sounded genuine.

Christine then told Jenna the rough location of her lunch table and Jenna promised that she’d be there on Monday. Christine smiled the whole time, proud of her win and possible score of a new friend.

“Hey,” Jenna asked after the agreement, “What are you even doing here so late?”

“Oh! I’m cleaning up all the mess that was left over from the play. You?”

Jenna shifted uncomfortably, “... I was probably gonna cry and wait for my ride to get here.”

“Oh.”

Jenna swallowed, “But, um… Well, how much do you have left to do here?”

Christine laughed a little, rolling her eyes. “It _never_ ends.”

“... Want me to help you?”

“Really? You’d do that?” Christine was a little caught off guard. It was an unusually nice gesture, especially for a popular person.

“Yeah. Just tell me what to do.”

Partially proud of Jenna, partially relieved that she didn’t have to tackle the costume closet alone, Christine flung her arms around Jenna in a hug and squealed, “Thank you!”

Jenna froze up. Before Christine could back off though, the hug was returned. “No problem.”

After the hug was released, the two crawled onto the stage. Just as Christine was going to lead Jenna into the wings, she froze. Out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Jenna’s painting, and…

“Oh, _wow,_ Jenna…”

Christine wasn’t any kind of Picasso- she didn’t judge art a lot- but the painting was gorgeous. It made her almost get lost in a trance, like she could stare and admire each and every stroke forever and never get bored.

“What?”

“I _see it_ now- gosh- it’s…”

“You do!?”

Christine said her answer aloud, completely certain. “Is that right?”

Jenna grinned and nodded vigorously. “Yeah- yes! That’s it! Oh my God, someone actually got it…”

"I don’t know what was wrong with me!” Christine shook her head. The image was so painfully obvious that she felt like a jerk for not seeing it before. On the surface it had just seemed plain with a lot of colors and shapes, nothing special. But underneath it was so much more.

Kinda like Jenna, she thought.

“It’s amazing, seriously. Chloe doesn’t know what she’s talking about because that’s just,” Christine shrugged, at a loss for words, “wow.”

Jenna looked at the floor sheepishly. “Thank you… You’re the first one to understand it, I guess. Nobody else’s gotten it.”

It took a minute for Christine to stop gushing it and get back on focus. After that the two headed off to work. Conversation came surprisingly easy between the two, and they laughed as the evening went on. They managed to put a fair dent in the work backstage before a janitor came and kicked them out.

Before she left, though, Christine snapped a picture of Jenna’s painting and set it as her screensaver. What could she say? It was really pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't make them get together in this because I always hate how they're shipped together just because they're the last two with no real substance to the relationship. If you ship them- fine! Feel free. I just didn't want them dating right away in this. 
> 
> At the very least I wanted a starting point for their relationship. And there was no way in hell I was gonna leave them out of the fic. These two poor girls are forgotten enough as is.


End file.
